


Lift Thine Eyes

by Piplup212



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale thinks Crowley's eyes are pretty, First Kiss, I did my best, M/M, i named this after a song we did in choir that bops to the extreme, its gay dudes, its just, please clap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 09:40:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19248592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piplup212/pseuds/Piplup212
Summary: not quite sure how to summarize this, it's gay and Aziraphale likes to see Crowley's little snakey eyes





	Lift Thine Eyes

Aziraphale grips his seat, watching the scenery around him whiz by as Crowley does about 100 down a busy Soho street towards the bookstore. The angel had already tried multiple times to get Crowley to slow down, almost begging him to do so. Of course, he didn’t listen. In fact, he seemed to speed up at his requests, his inherently mischievous smile growing. 

Aziraphale turns his gaze away from the sidelines and to his right towards Crowley, who clearly isn’t paying attention to the road, instead opting to fiddle with the cassette player. Aziraphale braces himself for a thorough blasting of “We Are the Champions”, looking to the road to keep his mind steady. At least, as steady as it can be before he realizes that they were about to barrel into a-

“DUCK!” Aziraphale shouts, putting a hand on Crowley’s shoulder and gripping it tightly as the driver came to his nerves and swerved to avoid a mother duck and her ducklings. Aziraphale whips around, looking behind them to try to catch a glimpse of the ducks but misses his mark, the little animals disappearing rapidly into faint blurs in the distance.

“Calm down, angel.” Crowley starts, keeping his gaze on the road. “They’re fine. I made sure of it.” He gently tilts down his sunglasses, giving Aziraphale a wink.

Aziraphale lets out a superfluous breath, turning back around in his seat. “Thank you, Crowley.”

“Don’t mention it.” Crowley comes to a rapid stop at the bookstore, parking and stopping the car with ease. He opens his door and steps out. Aziraphale follows suit, gently shutting the car door and walking up to the bookstore, ringing the bell up above. 

He wanders to his back office, glancing between his collection of antique wines and Crowley. “Would you like anything to drink, dear? Tea, wine, et cetera?” 

Crowley nods, yanking out Aziraphale’s well-loved office chair and taking a seat. “Wine sounds great.”

Aziraphale lets out a slightly exasperated sound, though it has no bite to it, more of an expression asking ‘what am I going to do with you?’ as he moves to grab the single bottle sitting on his desk, opening it and gathering two glasses. He fills each of them and hands one to Crowley who takes it with a single hand, his gaze resting somewhere else. The pale yellow light of the room is reflected in his sunglasses, just barely illuminating the outline of his eyes behind them. Aziraphale miracles in a chair, not averting his gaze from the lines indicating Crowley’s eyes as he takes a seat.

From the moment that the demon got his hands on a pair of sunglasses or even anything resembling them, it was like a lottery to get the chance to see him without them. Aziraphale did still think they were rather nice to look at, which is exactly what he continued to do, sneaking glances and longer looks as they continued to drink.

Crowley is mid-sip when he stops drinking, swallowing the little sip he took and moving the glass down. “Something on my face?”

Aziraphale’s brows knit together for a split-second before he hits his realization. He’s staring. “Oh, no! Sorry! I, er, what’s it they call it? Spaced out.” He lets out a laugh that is steeped in nervousness before silencing himself with a sip of wine.

Crowley lets out a laugh, nearly spilling wine all over his lap. “Angel, in all my years I haven’t ever seen you ‘space out’.” He adjusts, leaning forward with an elbow on a knee and his glass in his other hand. “What’s going on?”

Aziraphale sighed, putting his glass down on the desk and looking to Crowley. “If you must know…” He taps his temple then gestures to Crowley’s face. “You don’t need to… You don’t need to wear them when it’s just us, you know.” He folds his hands in his lap, allowing his gaze to leave Crowley’s face and settle on a stack of books elsewhere in the room. “You still can, of course. I won’t stop you. I just think you look… rather elegant with them off.”

Crowley leans back a bit in his seat, Aziraphale unable to see his eyes from the change in position against the light. “You do?”

Aziraphale nodded, picking up his glass and pouring a bit from the bottle into it. “Have for a while.”

Crowley takes a moment to process Aziraphale’s words before pushing the sunglasses further up on his nose. “I’ll consider it.”

Aziraphale, taking that as code for ‘I’m never taking these off’, settles into his chair. “Of course,” he says, taking another sip from his glass. 

Crowley follows his example, finishing off his glass and setting it on the desk. “I should get going. Things to see, people to tempt.” He once again secures his sunglasses on his face, standing from his seat. 

“Oh. Yes, dear, I suppose you’re right.” Aziraphale stands as well, taking their glasses to be washed.

Crowley stepped out of the back room. “See you around, angel.”

“Yes, see you-” Aziraphale turns towards the front door and sees the bell above ringing. “... around.”

 

Aziraphale was rearranging his books, dusting them off the old-fashioned way. He felt as though it made them feel loved. Of course, he’d simply do away with the dust on the ground after it had been removed from the books, but that didn't count. It's fine.

Regardless, he was in the middle of cleaning off his many stacks of books when there came an intrusive skid of rubber on asphalt outside followed by the bell above the door violently ringing. Aziraphale tuts in annoyance. “We’re closed!”

“Then lock up, angel.”

Aziraphale leans out from his dusting, about falling from his step stool. He sees Crowley leaning on a table, examining a book. “Oh, Crowley! Good to see you, my dear!” He steps down, rushing over to his friend. It’s when he’s a few steps away when he notices something… odd. He didn’t have his sunglasses on. “Crowley, you, erm…”

“Yeah, yeah, I considered. Thought I’d try it out.” Crowley averts his gaze, waving off the statement as if it were nothing. 

Aziraphale beams, making an attempt to contain his giddiness. “Oh! Right then! I’m… glad you considered!” His hands clasped in front of his body, his fingers wiggling in joy. “Er, wine, dear?”

“Not tonight, just… needed a place to come to stretch.” Crowley refused to make eye contact, making his way to the back room. Aziraphale followed right behind, grabbing a book on his way.

“Would you like me to read anything?”

“That’d be nice.” Crowley removed his jacket and unfurled his wings, taking care not to knock over any books. He took a seat on the sofa near the desk, shutting his eyes and thoroughly splaying himself out on the upholstery.

Aziraphale takes a seat in his chair, following Crowley’s example and revealing his own wings, stretching them out and letting any loose feathers fall free. He moves the chair closer to the sofa and cracks open the book, a mischievous smile coming across his face. “In the beginning, God created-”

Crowley groaned, covering his face with his hands as his wings flap in annoyance. “If you wanted me to leave, you could have just asked, angel.”

Aziraphale laughed, leaning over and putting a hand on the sofa near Crowley. “I’m only joking, I would never!” He straightened himself out again before actually beginning the first chapter. They sit there for hours, Crowley resting with his eyes shut as Aziraphale read to him.

Aziraphale is well into the 5th chapter when he stops suddenly, looking to the demon in front of him. Crowley cracks open an eye, glancing at Aziraphale.

“Something wrong?”

Aziraphale ponders his words a moment before putting a bookmark in the book and setting it aside, turning in his seat to face Crowley. “Crowley, you know why I asked that you try leaving those off around me, right?”

Crowley shut his eyes again, turning his head to the ceiling. “Fill me in, angel.”

Aziraphale stood in front of Crowley, cupping his jawline with the palm of his soft hand, feeling the sharp edges of his face. “I like your eyes, dear. I think they’re… For lack of a better term, I think they’re nice. I thought it a shame that you never take off those blasted sunglasses.”

Aziraphale felt Crowley’s face warm under his hand as he ran a thumb over his cheekbone. 

“Aziraphale, you’ve seen them before, since the beginning. Don’t see what’s so special about them.”

Aziraphale sat next to Crowley on the sofa, removing his hand from his cheek. “Well, if you’d let me see them I could tell you.” He could see Crowley roll his eyes from under his eyelids before opening them. “There we go, that’s better, isn’t it?” Aziraphale thought a moment, collecting his ideas before starting. “Well, you see, there’s a certain way that they reflect the light, it makes them look like… like little gold coins, the kind they had back in Rome, remember?”

Crowley nods, curling his wings closer to his body. “Yes, I remember. ‘Course I remember Rome, why wouldn’t I remember Rome?”

“Oh, hush.” Aziraphale moves the slightest bit closer, getting a better look at him. “They really do suit you well. Perhaps they seem a bit scary on the surface, but when you actually look into them and get to know them, they’re…” He lets out a little breath, staring straight into his eyes as he trails off.

“They're what?” Crowley asks, leaning back the slightest bit.

“... Beautiful.” A wide smile comes across the angel’s face. Without thinking, perhaps for the first time in 6000 years, he leans forward and presses his forehead to the Crowley’s, who puts a hesitant hand on one of Aziraphale’s wings to brace himself.

Crowley’s face twists in confusion and disbelief. “Did you just call me… beautiful?”

Aziraphale blinks in thought a few times before a violent flush comes over his face. He leans back, covering his face in shock and embarrassment. “Oh- Oh my, I’m so sorry. That was… wildly inappropriate, forgive me, I-”

Crowley cuts him off by prying his hands from his face and placing a finger against his lips. “I think it’s my turn, don’t you?” He whispers, the confusion in his face washing away and leaving behind fondness. Aziraphale thinks for a moment then nods, sitting up straight in front of Crowley. He clears his throat, placing two fingers right under his eyes. “They’re a nice, soft blue, like the sky. In fact, sometimes when I look really closely I can almost see clouds passing through them.”

Crowley lifts his hand from Aziraphale’s face, placing one against one of his wings. “They’re quite soft, you know. Lots of down, like those baby ducks we swerved past the other day.”

Aziraphale gives a bit of a nervous laugh at Crowley’s hand on his wing. “Well, I thought this was about my eyes.”

Crowley shrugs. “It was.” He leans in closer, replicating what Aziraphale did a moment ago and putting his forehead against the angel’s. “But if you get to call me beautiful, I get to do the same for you, don’t I?” Aziraphale’s flush grows, he didn’t even know that was possible, but apparently, it is. Crowley lets out a laugh, cupping the sides of his face with his hands. “You look like a tomato.”

“Crowley!” Aziraphale huffs, quite embarrassed.

Crowley’s thumbs run along his cheek, feeling the warmth radiating off of the angel. “I think it’s cute.” One of his thumbs trails down his face, tracing Aziraphale’s bottom lip. His voice shrinks into a whisper, to the point where, even if he strains his ears, Aziraphale can’t quite hear him.

“What was that, dear?” Aziraphale puts his hands behind him to hold him up. He hadn’t noticed, but Crowley was leaning forward to the point where he was pushing Aziraphale down towards the sofa.

Crowley takes one of Aziraphale’s hands in his own. “I said…” His lips graze against the angel’s as he speaks. “I’ve wanted to do this for over 6000 years, angel."

It all hits Aziraphale in an instant as he’s the one to take the plunge, pressing his lips gently against Crowley’s. He feels a smile against his mouth as Crowley presses back against him. Aziraphale removes his hands from behind himself and puts them in his dearest’s bright red hair. Unfortunately, that means that his means of support are ripped from behind him and he falls back onto the sofa, yanking Crowley down with him and knocking them out of their kiss with a bit of a thud.

When their connection is broken with the fall, Aziraphale is swept up in a wave of blissfully contagious laughter, taking Crowley’s face in his hands and peppering little kisses across his cheeks, his forehead, and the tip of his nose. They hide away their wings to have more room on the sofa because, if they're being honest, they need all the room they can get to keep their pure bliss from breaking through the walls.

"Angel, angel! Hold on a moment," says Crowley as he laughs through Aziraphale’s affection. He holds Aziraphale’s face still, stopping his little attacks against his face. The angel pouts a second before Crowley dips down, kissing him once again.

It's entirely awkward in the beginning. Their noses bump and neither of them can quite figure out how to do this for a moment, but they don't care, any moment they don't spend kissing they're laughing as if they'll never laugh again. Once they get the hang of this whole kissing thing, the laughter mellows out into a feeling of joy that permeates the entire room. 

Their kisses slowed as Aziraphale got himself sitting up straight again. As much as he feels as though they could spend hours doing this, there is something that the angel feels has been left unsaid. He takes one of Crowley's hands in his own, looking into his eyes before he speaks up. "I love you, Crowley."

Crowley looks as though he's about to absolutely combust. "I love you, too." Tears prick their way out of his eyes but the massive grin on his face betrays the idea that he could at all be sad. "Angel, I always have."


End file.
